by S. L. Baum
I felt a push from behind and looked back to see Lily trying to gain her balance. “Quit it, Coral.” Lily hissed.
Coral looked around her, with an innocent “who me?” expression on her face. But we all knew better. I was surprised that she hadn’t been put on hold with Ivy. Coral was a little troublemaker. Her size is the only thing that saved her. She barely made it to five feet tall. Her big wide eyes and baby face were a false front.
Coral pushed Lily again. The second push succeeded in knocking Lily to the side, right into the arms of a boy.
“Careful there,” he smiled, seizing Lily by her arms. He steadied my friend and then took a careful step backward.
“S-s-sorry,” Lily stuttered. “Somebody bumped into me and I completely just fell… right into your arms.”
“Yes you did,” he agreed. “I’m Fisher, by the way.”
“Lily. And… this is my friend Bluebell,” Lily said, grabbing my hand.
Fisher had sandy blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a warm smile. He was tall, standing a full head taller than me. His facial features were sharp and angular, but somehow he had a softness to his appearance. I decided that it was his smile that reassured you he actually cared. I mean, in those first few seconds, I knew that Fisher was a genuinely friendly guy. I liked him immediately.
“Hello, Bluebell,” Fisher nodded.
“And I’m Coral,” Coral shoved her way between Lily and I, pushing us apart and planting herself directly in front of Fisher.
The boy next to Fisher scrunched his face with a puzzled expression, “You sure you’re not some Year Eight stowaway?” he asked Coral.
“Definitely ready to In-cor-por-ate,” Coral smacked her lips together and winked at the boys. She continued walking toward the door. “Are you ready, boys?” she asked over her shoulder, before leaving the room.
Fisher laughed and grabbed his classmate by the shoulders. “Are you ready, Stone?”
The other boy, Stone, shook his head. “Not ready for that little thing.”
Lily gave Coral’s departing form a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about her. Coral’s just trying to prove something.”
“We have no idea what, though.” I raised my eyebrows.
“Lily and Bluebell,” Fisher repeated our names.
“Fisher and Stone,” Lily countered.
Fisher smiled. “Let’s go check out our new schedules.”
“Let’s,” Lily beamed.
Stone shook his messy black hair, “This whole Incorporation thing is messing with my brain. You girls smell really good, by the way.” He smiled widely, unashamed by his comment. I decided it was the widest smile I had ever seen.
I smiled back. “Thanks.”
We staggered ourselves, boy-girl-boy-girl, walking next to each other. The four of us exited the Main Hall by a door that we had never used before. The large, cherry red door in the back of the hall had always been off limits. We had only recently learned that it led to the classrooms that would combine our two groups. It felt strange enough to walk next to someone from the opposite sex; it was hard to imagine that I would be spending my days with them from now on.
We paused in our tracks. A line had formed in front of a table; where names were given, records were checked, and schedules were being passed out. I glanced at Fisher and then Stone. Stone was puffing up his cheeks, filling them with air, and shifting the bubble of air from one cheek to the other.
I laughed.
He smiled.
“How many are in your Incorporation group?” I asked.
“Eighteen. No. Seventeen, because Stream was put on hold. Which was for the best. We already had a River when Stream moved here from Concord Two a few years ago. One body of moving water was enough, Stream had to go,” Stone winked.
“Oh, and we don’t have enough flora names to go around?” I laughed.
Stone shook his head. “The Council will probably switch up the preferred name list in a few years anyway. I think the Natural Name Guide has been overused.”
Fisher nodded his head. “Yeah. I wonder what they have planned next.”
“Ah, who cares? We’ll find out when the time comes. So, what was that guy put on hold for?” Lily asked.
Fisher brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Well, he actually tried to sneak over to your side. I heard he made it to the medical center before getting caught.”
Lily gasped. “Was it in the middle of the night, about a month ago?”
Fisher nodded his head and Lily stopped in her tracks. “Blue, remember when that alarm sounded and our Guardian came around to lock the door?”
We all paused as the line we were in came to a stop.
“I do. Oh, I do. She said it was an emergency drill, but we’d never had one at that hour before. I thought it seemed a little strange.” I looked to my left and then to my right, glancing up at the new male faces that had been walking next to me. “Was that all because of your Stream guy?”
Stone released the new bubble of air that he had been using to blow up his right cheek. “Yeah, it was. It happened exactly five weeks ago, actually.”
We stepped forward as the line started to move again.
“I knew it wasn’t a drill,” Lily smiled, and a sense of validation shined from her face. “Five weeks. The silly guy couldn’t wait five lousy weeks.”
“It wasn’t about seeing a girl,” Fisher scoffed. “It was about denying authority. Stream was always doing whatever he was told not to do.”
I smiled. “That’s our Coral. Except, so far she’s been smart enough to not get caught doing anything more than being an unpleasant person. Too bad you can’t get put on hold for that!”
We reached the table.
“Names?” the woman sitting behind the table asked.
“Lily 3.29.” Lily spoke first.
“Fisher 4.01.”
“Stone 2.78.
“Bluebell 1.15,” I answered last.
She leafed through a pile of papers in front of her and pulled four out of the stack. “Here we are. Lily… daughter of Denver and Cheyenne, family 3.29. Fisher… son of Phoenix and Sedona, family 4.01. Stone… son of Orlando and Madison, family 2.78. And Bluebell… daughter of Jackson and Aspen, family number 1.15. Please take your schedules and may the spirit of cooperation be with you. Concur with Concord.”
“Thank you, um, you too.” I took my schedule and walked away from the table.
Fisher whistled beside me. “1.15 huh. Your father descends from one of the original twenty Council members. That’s got to come with some clout.”
“It’s time for lunch isn’t it?” I mumbled and quickened my pace.
“Did I say something wrong?” I heard him ask.
“It’s actually not her father. It’s her mother. And Blue just doesn’t like talking about her family very much,” I heard Lily explain.
Fisher ran up beside me. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”
“It’s no big deal. It’s just that, well, I’ve seen Aspen rub it in his face sometimes on Visitation. She thinks that number is everything. I mean, it’s just a number, right?”
“Sure. But if I could lay descendent claim to the founding Council, I would. Out of those twenty men there are less than ten with living heirs in Training Tech.”
“Eight,” I responded, rounding the corner toward what we were told would be the common eating area. “Two in our Year, two in Year Seven, three in Year Four, and one in Year One. There are a few in their twenties - some fertile, some not. The rest are older and can no longer produce any direct descendants. Aspen keeps track of them all.”
“Aspen?” Fisher asked.
“Her mother,” Lily answered for me.
Fisher nodded. “Oh yeah, right.”
“You are a fountain of information. Two in our Year…” Stone repeated.
“Coral,” I answered the unasked question.
“Oh yes, my friends,” Coral appeared beside us. “Coral 1.01. My G
reat-whatever was the first Council Member to sign the Mandate.”
“Give it up, Coral,” Lily laughed at her. “We all know that it doesn’t matter who had the first signature or the twentieth signature. They all held equal rank.”
Stone blew out a bubble of air. “I believe that was repeated in Council History class every single year. Wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I believe it was,” Fisher remarked.
“Believe what you want,” Coral hissed.
“And your family hasn’t held a Council seat in, what, decades?” Stone smirked. “I don’t remember hearing of a 1.01 on The Council in quite a long time.”
“Oh. Just. Be. Quiet!” Coral snapped and then spun on her heels, heading toward the group walking behind us. Rosemary was with them; she always agreed with anything Coral had to say.
“Thanks, guys,” I whispered. “She’s been trying to get someone other than her friend Rosemary to side with her on the family number thing since she discovered mine, years ago.”
“Lunch, right? We are going to lunch.” Fisher pointed forward toward the building ahead of us, dismissing the subject. I’d just met him, minutes before, and he was already putting an effort into making me feel at ease. It just reaffirmed my first impression of him; Fisher 4.01 was a genuinely nice guy.
I took a deep breath to calm myself, and when I blew it out I tried to expel all thoughts of Coral. I didn’t want to let her sour Incorporation day for me. We continued on to our lunch and then to our afternoon lectures. We all introduced our new friends to each other. Boys met girls, girls met boys, and before I knew it, the day was over.
I fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter Three
Expectations
When the room alarm sounded on Sunday morning, my eyes popped open with anticipation. It had been a few weeks since I’d last seen my father, and he had promised to be at Visitation on the day after Incorporation.
When breakfast was finished, we were sent to the medical center to have our arm bandages changed, after which we were directed to the gardens for a mandatory walk, and finally we were shuffled back to our rooms to wait. Lily and I were faced with two long hours of busying ourselves before Training Tech would allow any visitors to walk through the door.
Lily flopped down onto her bed and proclaimed that she would be sleeping. “Wake me when it’s time to go,” she said as she pulled the covers over her head, blocking out the light.
“Sure thing,” I said and patted her head, which was just a lump under a fuzzy blanket.
“It’s still weird, eating around the boys,” Lily said through a yawn.
“It’s only day two. I’m sure we’ll be used to it in no time,” I reassured her.
“I guess so,” she mumbled.
“Go to sleep.”
“I’m just about there. Stop talking to me.”
I laughed. “You stop talking to me.”
I grabbed my tablet to scroll through its contents. It contained a variety of educational games, dramas and comedies acted out on video, and written stories… all of which had been approved by Trainer Alpha. I wasn’t in the mood to play a brain game so I scrolled through the video selections that appeared on the screen. Nothing looked appealing. I always knew the outcome; every character did exactly what was expected of them. I could tell you what would happen at the end, within the first fifteen minutes of every video. Whenever we watched one together, Lily would shush me every time I opened my mouth; for fear that I’d spoil the story for her. I found it hard to connect with the characters. The actors spoke so politely to each other, even when the words coming out of their mouths were filled with anxiety.
At least when I read a story, I could imagine the characters acting with great feeling. Crying so much that their whole body ached… or laughing so hard that their face hurt and they couldn’t breathe… or caring so much that they would do anything just to make a companion happy. Sometimes, I didn’t even read the last chapter. I didn’t allow the heroine to do her civic duty… I didn’t allow the hero to act according to plan… I wouldn’t let the characters sum up their lives and tie everything up in a pretty little bow. I imagined my own ending. Maybe the heroine was truly confused… maybe the hero didn’t want to follow each and every order… maybe they went off in search of their own answers. The story carried on that way. The bow didn’t have to be tied up. I left the ribbon just hanging there, all limp, loose, and unsure. The story didn’t have to end.
I selected a story and decided to read until the visiting bell sounded.
Lily and I rushed down the hall and were the first students to burst through the door into the Visitation Room. I couldn’t wait to see my father.
“Mother! Father!” Lily exclaimed upon seeing her parents. She rushed ahead of me and was immediately pulled into a family embrace. Three big smiles, six arms grasped together, and I could feel the genuine emotion from where I stood.
A pang of jealousy and longing rushed through me.
I saw a head peeking around Lily’s father. My father was leaning to the side, standing behind Lily’s family. He smiled. I waved and smiled back as I started toward him, my steps faltered when I noticed that she was standing beside him, but I continued toward them.
“Father, Aspen, so nice to see you again.” The smile that was on my face became stiff and strained at seeing my mother. I’d been hoping she would skip Visitation. We had been told to expect a full house because the day after Incorporation was historically a day for celebration, but I had secretly hoped that just my father would attend.
“So nice to see you, Bluebell,” Aspen smoothed, her voice unusually sweet. “Jackson, what a grown-up girl we have.”
My father let out a small nervous laugh. “Yes, dear. I’m so glad you agree. I’ve been telling you that for months.”
“I know, Jackson darling, and I have tried to make it. I have just been so busy with the house, and my meetings, and planning her homecoming.” Aspen moved her hands as she spoke. The jingle of the rows of bracelets she wore on her left arm punctuated her words.
“My homecoming?”
“Yes, child, your homecoming. There must be a Grand Gala to celebrate your graduation from Training Tech. Every family member of 1.15 has had a Grand Gala. Mine was lovely. Have I ever told you about it?”
I shook my head. “Um, no, Aspen, I don’t think you have.” She hadn’t told me much of anything about herself… EVER. Well that wasn’t exactly true. As far as our family history went, she’d told me story after story. I knew, without a doubt, how important and influential the past members of 1.15 had been. Aspen had made sure of that.
“The décor, the fashion, I remember every glittering detail. All the best families attended my Gala. I met your father that night. He looked so dashing in his formal attire. But Jackson wasn’t even invited, originally. It was just fate that brought you to me that night, wasn’t it, dear?” Aspen smiled.
“I guess it was,” my father answered. “Monty never stood a chance with you.”
“Not after I laid eyes on his older cousin,” Aspen sighed, stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed my father on the cheek.
That was a display of affection! I just stood there with my mouth open.
“Are you feeling all right, Bluebell?” My father asked as he reached out to smooth my hair.
“I’m fine,” I said, wondering who these two people were… surely not my parents. Aspen wasn’t nostalgic and sweet. She was bored, possessive, and well… absent most of the time. “I was just wondering who Monty was,” I stammered, not wanting to admit what I was actually thinking about.
“Monty is my cousin. His father and my father were cousins. My parents died when I was Year Eleven and I went to live with Monty’s parents when it was time for me to start at the Career Education Center,” my father explained.
Aspen patted his arm, interrupting him. “Montgomery and I went through Incorporation together. Well, I guess it was a few weeks after we left Training Tech… yes, just
a few days before my Gala, that I got a video message from him, asking if he could bring his poor, orphaned, older cousin with him. I don’t know why I said yes. Montgomery looked so hopeful and I was just so excited about the celebration that I couldn’t refuse him. Plus, I knew the boy was sweet on me, and he was so cute back then. But when Jackson walked up with Montgomery, and introduced himself to me, all thoughts of cute little Monty were washed away. Your father is a very striking man, don’t you think so?”
I nodded my head. My father wasn’t just striking; I thought he was an amazing looking man. I’d inherited my dark hair and dark eyes from him. There was a quiet strength in his appearance. He stood tall, he walked with a confident stride, and he looked you in the eyes when he spoke to you. You just knew he was being sincere.
“He’s lucky I let Montgomery bring him along.”
Actually, I thought, you’re the lucky one, Aspen.
“Oh, I’m a lucky man alright. Lovely wife, lovely daughter, life is good,” he smiled. “So, how did it go yesterday?” he asked, looking down at my bandaged wrist.
“It was fine. No big deal.”
“That’s my girl. And it will heal up in no time flat. Then it will be time for another,” he said, referring to the second mark I would receive at the end of Training Tech.
“Can I see yours?” I asked. My father was always in a long sleeved shirt and tie when he came to visit. The sleeves covered any trace of his Citizen Brand.
“Of course,” he answered, pulling up his sleeve.
I traced the black circle on his skin with my finger. The brand had faded. It wasn’t an angry red burn anymore, not like mine was under the white bandage, not after so many years. But the black would always remain.
